


A Time to Grow

by OutOfTheShadows



Series: A Time for Every Purpose [2]
Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Issues, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 23:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15399879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfTheShadows/pseuds/OutOfTheShadows
Summary: True healing does not come instantly or easily.  It comes with time and an overwhelming conviction that any struggle will be worth the reward --





	A Time to Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: About history, TV canon, and this story series
> 
> This is the second story in my “A Time for Every Purpose” series. While it can be read as a stand-alone narrative, I recommend that you read “A Time to Heal” first.
> 
> As I said in the introduction to “A Time to Heal”, it is impossible to reconcile what we saw on the Versailles TV series with actual history. The timelines cannot be merged with each other, and the portrayals of some of the main characters on the TV series are less than historically accurate. So, for this series, I will be blending some canon, some actual history, and some of my imagination.
> 
> This story picks up immediately after “A Time to Heal” and focuses on Philippe and the Chevalier as they try to restart their relationship on a new, healthier, stronger footing.
> 
> Comments are welcome, please enjoy!

Philippe rolled over in bed – and found the Chevalier gone. Concern turned to affection when he heard his lover rustling around in his adjacent dressing room.

Last night, they had finished their journey back to each other – the question now was how to avoid the destructive mistakes of the past – all that had driven them apart. He wanted to believe that his Chevalier could build on his new-found self-esteem and confidence, and he wanted to believe that he could somehow cope with his memories of war without alienating everyone he loved. God, he wanted to believe that.

“Your wardrobe is in a terrible state” the Chevalier scolded. “Your shoes are dull, your coats need brushing, and your lace is completely limp. Where have Robert and John-Paul been?” he said, rebuking Philippe’s two personal valets.

“Don’t blame them, my love. I have hardly allowed them in here since I returned.”

“Well, that must stop. I cannot have you moving about the court looking like a vagrant. I will instruct them to attend to your wardrobe immediately.”

Philippe smiled contentedly. Things were all right. For the first time in what had been truly years, things were all right. They had moved from the Chevalier’s exile to Philippe’s second marriage, to the Chevalier’s dependence on alcohol and powders, to Thomas, to the war, and then to his own inability to survive not the war itself, but what the war had done to him – with almost no time for their love along the way. But now they were together, and, if they were not each in a permanently healthier mind, at least they had shared their pain with each other.

“You look happy.” Philippe had not even heard the Chevalier re-enter the bedroom.

“I have every reason to be” Philippe replied, painfully sincere.

The Chevalier settled onto the bed next to him, as they pulled each other into an embrace. The Chevalier drew back first, giving Philippe a comically sour face. “You smell dreadfully bad.”

“And who should I blame for that? Besides, you smell no better.”

“Then it is a good thing I told the servants to prepare the new bath some time ago. It should be ready now.”

“Is it nice?” Philippe asked.

“You have not used it yet?” The Chevalier was incredulous – the luxury of the new bath, and, in all this time, Philippe had not enjoyed it?

Philippe looked down – “No, I have been taking my baths in here.”

“Then prepare yourself for a true pampering, my darling.” The new bath in the Orleans suite was a gem – made of marble tile, sunk partially into the floor, far larger than the copper bathing tubs that Philippe had been using – only the king and his wife had anything similar. It could hold the two of them comfortably, with plenty of room for any bath-time activity that they cared to indulge in. He and Liselotte had convinced Louis to shoulder the cost in the early stages of Liselotte’s pregnancy, just after Philippe left for war, persuading the King that it would be far safer for a Princess great with child to step down into her bath, rather than to climb over the high edge of one of the copper tubs. And, the Chevalier had to admit, while he was honestly concerned for Liselotte and her baby’s safety, he also had ulterior motives when it came to the new bath.

They padded across the floor to the adjacent bath and sank into the steaming water. “Now” the Chevalier smirked “the only remaining question is whether I wash you first, or you begin with me”.

Philippe spotted two bars of soap on the side of the tub. The first smelled like the peach and vanilla of his lover’s cologne – Philippe grabbed the bar and started messaging soap into the blonde’s hair and scalp, while the Chevalier all but purred.

“Rinse your head and I will get started on the rest of you.”

The Chevalier went under the water, and came up between Philippe’s legs, sampling some of Philippe’s finer features along the way.

Philippe slapped the water in front of the Chevalier’s face, splashing him and sending water all over the floor. “Keep doing that and I will be too distracted to finish washing you!”

“You, Mignonette, are a distraction worthy of any sacrifice.”

Somehow, they managed to wash each other clean, but, by the time they had finished, there was more water on the floor than left in the tub.

\--------------

When they returned to Philippe’s bedchamber, the table was laid out with pastries and grapes, and a small, ornate chest sat closed on the bed.

Philippe fingered the chest. “Is this your doing?”

“Yes, it is something that I was going to give you when you returned from war” The Chevalier’s face turned serious – “I had despaired of ever giving it to you, but now, I want it to be yours”.

“I am so sorry I was so cruel to you.”

“I know that you are, but that is past. Please, open the chest.”

Philippe turned the latch. The top tray contained an assortment of oils, some for the bath and some for the bed, and a collection of satin ribbons, in jewel tones of ruby, emerald, and amethyst. Philippe and the Chevalier grinned at each other, and Philippe reached in to remove the chest’s upper tray – and found an exquisite ball gown, in a deep pine green, with silver threads sewn into the neckline, down the front of the bodice and around the hem, and pure white lace inserts in the thrice-puffed sleeves. Philippe gasped. It was perfect.

“Thank you, thank you so much, you always know what I would love.”

“I know you, darling, and I do believe that you look your most flawless in deep and pure colors.” Suddenly, Philippe turned away. The Chevalier gently rubbed Philippe’s upper arms, trying to convey acceptance of whatever was to come. “What is it, Mignonette, tell me what is wrong?”

Philippe wanted to tell him it was nothing, or perhaps run from the room, but, last night, he had promised not to do that very thing – but he feared the Chevalier’s answer. He had bought him the dress before he returned from war, before so many other things had happened – he forced himself to face his love. Dammit – he could feel tears on his face. “Do you think that perhaps now if you want a woman, you would want a real woman?”

The Chevalier gently brushed away the tears on Philippe’s face. “No, my dear, I chose you. And I will choose you for now and forever. You are what I want and all that I need.”

“Do you want me to try it on?” Philippe asked, a bit hesitantly.

“Not now, we need a bit of breakfast and we must get ready for that walk we promised Liselotte. Tonight, though, I would be most willing to lace your corset and put up your hair.”

“And I would be most willing to let you remove said corset.”

\--------------

Liselotte pounded on the door of Philippe’s bedchamber. “Do you have him up and dressed yet?”

“Almost ready. Five minutes more. I have him up, washed, and fed, but trying to convince him to wear something that is not gray is proving to be a challenge” the Chevalier returned.

Liselotte threw the door open without further warning. She turned to the Chevalier. “Put him in the deep blue brocade, just the vest, it is too warm for a coat, it brings out the color of his eyes nicely, or so you always say.”

Philippe stared at his two best friends in disbelief. “Do I, perhaps, get a say in what I wear? And, perhaps, you might recall, that I am quite capable of preparing myself to meet the world in the morning?”

Liselotte snorted “Philippe, _as I recall_ , you take two hours to become fully awake in the morning and you typically empty your wardrobe before you decide what to wear. And you have never been on time for anything in your life, including your first meeting with me. If we are going to get that walk in before lunch, we need to leave now.” She turned to the Chevalier, who was ushering Philippe’s vest over his shoulders. “Now, let’s go.”

Philippe knew there was stupid smile on his face, and he did not care.

\-----------

Once out in the hallway, a painting caught Philippe’s eye. It was on the hallway door to the new bath, a landscape with a cock pheasant, in multi-hued autumn tones, hanging from a silk cord. He stopped and stared hard at the painting. “Listen, you two – I am sure that the painting that was on this door yesterday was that of a hen pheasant. Now today, it is a male.”

The Chevalier and Liselotte shared a devious grin – and the Chevalier reached for the narrow frame around the painting and turned it over to reveal the painting of a hen on the opposite side. “So there wouldn’t be any confusion as to who is using the bath, my dear.”

\------------

The trio walked in the gardens, blooming in their late-summer splendor, awash in the golds, oranges, crimsons and pinks of daises, dahlias and asters.

“Liselotte, we” – Philippe motioned back and forth between the Chevalier and himself – “have discussed this, and I want to bring our children – all three of them – back here to Versailles. As you reminded me, we are a family. I want us all together.”

Liselotte bit her lip, trying not to hope. “Do you think Louis will permit that?”

“I don’t know. He and I are at better place than we have been in the past – perhaps better than we ever have been. I may be able to convince him.”

The Chevalier shook his head. “Of course, that assumes his gratitude toward you for saving his life is great enough for him to risk upsetting his new wife. She was responsible for taking Alexander away in the first place. For Louis, that many be a tall order.”

“All I can do is try. And I want to bring the girls and their governess back from St. Germain. Marie Louise is eleven and Anne Marie has now turned four. I want them here, with us, I want to truly know them and I want them to know all three of their parents.”

“Please talk to Louis today, Philippe” Liselotte encouraged. “I, too, want them here as soon as possible but it will take time to prepare rooms for them.”

They walked on, admiring the flowers, quietly enjoying each other’s company. Liselotte smiled slyly. “The Duchess de Caleneau tells me that their dog, a Brittany, recently had puppies. She said the mother is an excellent hunting dog but is gentle and makes a good companion to their grandchildren. A Brittany would need a lot of walking, but that would be a perfect excuse to get all of us outside. I say we adopt a family dog.”

The Chevalier groaned. “Wretched, disgusting little creatures, shredding hair on the fabrics, jumping up on your legs, snagging your stockings –”

“I think a dog would be an excellent addition to our family” Philippe interrupted, enjoying his lover’s discomfort a bit more than he had first realized.

“Wonderful! I will tell the Duchess we will take two puppies, they will be ready to leave their mother in few days, the Caleneau country estate is close to St. Germain, we could pick them up the same time we get the girls.”

The Chevalier held up two fingers and let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh, but kept on walking.

\------------

Philippe squared his shoulders and approached Bontemps, who was, as usual, hovering at his master’s door. “I would speak with my brother.”

“I will see if he will receive you, Your Highness.” The guards lifted their spears and allowed the valet to enter. He came back out a few minutes later.

“His Majesty will receive you now.”

Philippe drew in his breath and entered.

“What brings you here today, brother?” Louis asked.

Philippe decided that his older brother’s smile was sincere, but, with Louis, it was hard to know. _Get on with it_ , he told himself. “Louis, I want to bring all three of my children back here to Versailles. I want to personally supervise their education and training.”

If Louis was surprised, he was not showing it. “That would be highly irregular, to say the least. I thought it was settled that Alexander should be in the Royal Nursery in Paris.”

“No, Madame de Maintenon forcibly removed my son from the palace. I was too – preoccupied – at the time to protest, but I certainly protest her actions now. And as for raising my children here being “irregular”, I believe you consented to Madame de Montespan’s children being raised here at the palace. Don’t my children deserve the same consideration?” Philippe bit his tongue. Montespan was still a sore spot for Louis. It may not have been wise to bring her up.

Louis turned away but said nothing.

“Louis, we never knew our father – not our father by bloodline, or our father by inheritance. I want to know my children, and I want them to know me.”

Louis faced his younger brother. “Very well. I trust you to ensure that Her Highness behaves appropriately toward my wife. And I trust you to ensure that the Chevalier de Lorraine refrains from engaging in any further treasonous behavior. There will be consequences if they do not honor their positions in the court of France – whether their positions are by marriage or a result of your highly dubious choices. Do you understand this?”

“I do.”

“Then you may proceed.”

“Thank you.” Philippe got out of the room as quickly as possible, hoping his disgust for Louis terms did not show on his face. Once again, his brother was holding those closest to him hostage to ensure Philippe’s compliance – particularly the Chevalier, since while Louis might allow Maintenon to make Liselotte miserable, he would not likely exile Liselotte. He had hoped that their shared knowledge of their true father would end Louis’s threats toward Philippe’s love. No, that had been too much to hope for. Even if he had saved his brother’s life only a few days before.

\---------------

As they got ready for bed, the Chevalier could not help notice that there was something on Philippe’s mind, something he had not shared when he had told his lover and his wife about the children returning earlier that evening.

Liselotte, understandably, was overjoyed, she would have her baby back in her arms on a daily basis, and she could now fully realize her dream of being mother to Marie Louise and Anne Marie. Liselotte talked much more than usual all evening, discussing plans for reconfiguring the rooms in the Orleans suite to accommodate three children, nurse maids and governess. The Chevalier found himself looking forward to the children’s return – Marie Louise had an artistic bent, and he could teach her to draw, design, and paint. He barely knew little Anne Marie, but would learn to love her, and, if Liselotte could have her baby back, that could not be anything but joyous.

“What is it, darling, once again, I feel we need to talk.”

“Am I that obvious?” Philippe tried to smile but failed.

“My love, do you not yet realize that I can read your every mood and expression?”

“I was thinking about my talk with Louis earlier today.”

The Chevalier sighed. “Louis allowed you to bring the – our – children home, that would be the good news. What is the bad news?”

Philippe said nothing.

“Speak. Allow me to share your burden. If we are to avoid our past mistakes, we must deal with our problems as they arise.”

The Chevalier’s wisdom was undisputable -- so many of their past problems could have been circumvented if they had just been honest with each other at the first sign of trouble. “I thought, in vain, that Louis might be more respectful of you since our – situation – with our father and since I saved his life in the streets of Paris. But he threatened you, once again, if you “engaged in any further treasonous behavior”.”

“He threatened to exile me again?”

“Yes, but according to Liselotte, his plans for you when you were imprisoned recently were not another exile in Italy, Louis was going to send you to the New World Colonies, which would have been as good as killing you. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you are not equipped to handle a voyage to Louisiana, much less life there.”

“So, Louis, once again, is using me as a pawn to attempt to gain your compliance. What did he ask for in return?”

“He permitted our children to live at Versailles in exchange for Liselotte being nice to Maintenon and you staying in line.”

“I do not regret what I did to help a number of Protestants escape France. In time, Louis would have taken all their wealth, and then their lives.”

“You showed courage that I did not know that you had.” Philippe finished gently “Even though I understand you were paid well for your services.”

“I needed money to survive.”

“I know. I cannot and will not blame you for anything you did while I was rejecting you. But you must promise me that will not break Louis’s decrees again, even if the cause be just.” Philippe felt himself tearing up again, for seemingly the hundredth time in the last two days. “I cannot bear losing you. I can’t do anything without you. Not sit on the King’s Council, fight a war, or be a father. Please promise me that you will not do anything like that again.”

“Will you use your new position on the King’s Council to fight his persecution of people of any religion?”

Philippe smiled inwardly. He liked this new maturity in his love, this new concern for others, the confidence in his stance as he stood before Philippe. “Yes. I swear that I will.”

“Then I will focus on increasing our family’s wealth apart from the crown.” The Chevalier gave Philippe one of his conniving grins. “But do not expect me to pass up a chance to make Louis a bit uncomfortable now and then.”

Philippe exhaled and shook his head. “I will trust you to not go too far on that.”

The Chevalier cupped Philippe’s face in his hands, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his jawline, and finally his lips. Pulling away, he whispered “I will put you and our family first. What we have is far too precious to lose.”

\------------

Seconds later, they were together on the bed, slowly removing each other’s remaining clothing, kissing each piece of newly exposed skin, bodies growing hard and hungry.

“I thought I was going to wear my new gown tonight” Philippe murmured between kisses.

“Maybe later.”

**Author's Note:**

> My goals here were two: First, to write the Chevalier with increased self-esteem and confidence but to still show all that flamboyance, conniving, sarcasm and pride that makes him so lovable; and second, to portray Philippe as a person who is truly committed to overcoming his war-induced post-traumatic stress – to return to his family and to the world – but who is struggling every step of the way.
> 
> Philippe and Liselotte’s first child was a boy, named Alexander, born in 1673. Sadly, little Alexander died before his third birthday. The TV writers did not even acknowledge his existence, but I chose to do so here. Philippe was their second child, born in 1674. This second child, Philippe, lived to adulthood, had children and served as regent for his young grandnephew, Louis XV, until the boy was old enough to reign himself.
> 
> Brittanys were, indeed, bred as hunting dogs and companions in 17th century France.


End file.
